


Obey It

by yuriallytestingmerightnow



Category: Hamlet - Shakespeare
Genre: F/M, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-10
Updated: 2018-07-10
Packaged: 2019-06-08 11:02:28
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,513
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15241950
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/yuriallytestingmerightnow/pseuds/yuriallytestingmerightnow
Summary: Hamlet has been challenged to a duel by Laertes. He accepts.





	Obey It

“ _ If your mind dislike anything, obey it.” _

 

Horatio's words echoed through my mind. This sudden challenge did seem suspect, orchestrated by my reprehensible uncle, making me grapple with the man whose sister I once loved and whose father I sent to his grave. I was no fool, and, though it chafes me to say, my uncle could not be called one either. It would make me a fool to think that there was no ulterior motives to this supposed friendly challenge. 

 

Perhaps that’s why I accepted the invitation. 

 

“Come, my lord,” Laertes responded, readying himself for the fight. I had given him my apology before, and he seemed to accept it. He blamed his honor for being the reason he must follow through with this amiable assault. I understood it. My actions… I knew they were hardly acceptable, even under the excuse of my mental ailment. 

 

“ _ En-garde… pret… allez _ ,” I heard Osric say, giving us two the cue to begin our assault. Though I had been practicing as of late, I knew that Laertes was undoubtedly the more talented fencer. 

 

Which is why it shocked me when the tip of my foil hit Laertes in the middle of his chest.

 

“One.”

 

“No.”

 

“Judgment?” I said, glancing over to Osric.

 

“A hit. A very palpable hit,” He clarified, nodding his head. I glanced to Laertes now, his face not reflecting the disappointment I expected. He seemed rather at ease with this single hit.

 

“Well, again,” He urged, readying himself. I heard a mumbling coming from my uncle, and I looked in his direction.

 

“Hamlet, this pearl is thine. Here’s to thy health,” he said to me. He held his hand up in the air, a small, white pearl between two fingers. I watched as he dropped the pearl in the goblet of wine, leaning over to a servant that stood by, “Give him the cup.”

 

“I’ll play this bout first. Set it by a while,” I ordered the servant. I didn’t need any gifts from such a disgusting, lecherous fiend as this false king, was. 

 

“Come.”

 

Laertes and I continued our assault for some seconds before-

 

“Another hit,” I said, “What say you?”

 

“A touch. A touch, I do confess’t,” Laertes admitted, a hint of a smile on his face. I paused, staring for a moment at the young man standing across from me, a smile on his face, a foil in his hand. Laertes, my former friend… former? He had given me forgiveness before this match. 

 

My friend, Laertes.

 

“The queen carouses to thy fortune, Hamlet,” I heard my mother say, pulling me out of my thoughts. I turned to face her as she lifted the golden chalice, a small smile on her face.

 

“Good madam,” I responded as she brought the goblet to her lips.

 

“Gertrude, do not drink,” I heard my uncle suddenly order. My mother brought the goblet down momentarily, a steely expression on her face as she stared back at him.

 

“I will, my lord. I pray you, pardon me,” She responded, taking a drink out of the ornate cup. The smirk returned to my face as I felt some small victory in my mother’s defiance. 

 

“I dare not drink yet, madam. By and by,” I told her, repeating my reluctance to drink.

 

“Come, let me wipe thy face,” She said. I nodded, taking the steps towards her. I leaned down as she wiped by brow with her napkin. I looked at her face, wrinkled and melancholy, tears in her eyes. I saw Laertes approach my uncle in my peripheral vision, but I only stared at the queen.

 

“How fare you?” I asked her quietly as she took her napkin away.

 

“Well,” She said in a shaky voice as she suddenly took my hand in her own, “Win, my son.”

 

I nodded, bringing her shaking hand to my lips. I stood back upright, a sudden chill spreading over my body.

 

“Come, for the third, Laertes,” I said, the chill being replaced by an encouraging desire to succeed, “You do but dally. I pray you, pass with your best violence. I am afeard you make a wanton of me.”

 

“Say you so? Come on,” Laertes said. We took our positions, and I stared at his face once more. It had changed. His smile was gone, now, replaced with a stiff, clenched jaw. His eyes had lost their playful charm, replaced with a new flatness. Whatever conversation he had just finished with the king must have been a sad one. 

 

It made me wary of this once more. 

It was too late to worry, however, as the assault began. We fought, each of us unable to land a solid hit on each other.

 

“Nothing, neither way,” The foolish lord Osric muttered off to the side. I frowned as we continued the fight.

 

“Have at you now!” I heard Laertes suddenly exclaim, thrusting his foil at my torso.

 

“AH,” I yelped as the blade hit the flesh of my stomach. I heard both of our foils topple to the floor, a sharp pain coming from the wound. This was not what was expected - in this friendly match, both foils were not to be sharp. 

 

My hand went to the bleeding wound, a sudden rage flooding through my body as I picked a foil up from the ground - Laertes’.

 

I thrust the blade forward, feeling it push through the flesh of Laertes’ arm - a non-fatal wound, certainly, but enough to return the pain he had given me. 

 

“Part them! They are incensed,” I heard my uncle yell. I glared at Laertes’, the blood now covering my left hand that pressed down on the wound.

 

“Nay, come, again,” I snapped through gritted teeth. I was pulled out of this anger as I heard a loud clatter, glancing over to see my mother falling from her throne.

 

“Look to the Queen there, ho!” Osric yelled at the servants in the room, two of them flanking her quickly. 

 

“They bleed on both sides,” Horatio said, his voice filled with fear as he grabbed my right hand, “How is it, my lord?”

 

I tried to pull away, the sound of Osric’s and Laertes’ voices becoming muffled as my heart pounded louder, staring at my collapsed mother. My uncle still sat in his throne, clenching the armrests, his knuckles white with force.

 

“How does the Queen?” I insisted, freeing myself from Horatio’s grasp as I stepped towards her, shooing the servants away as I knelt next to my mother.

 

“She swoons to see them bleed,” My uncle said in an empty, monotone voice. I took my mother’s hand in my own, staring down at her. Her breathing was quick as she stared up at me, tears streaming down her aged cheeks as she spoke.

 

“No, no, the drink, the drink,” She said in a quiet voice, her grip tightening on my hand, “O my dear Hamlet! The drink, the drink! I am  _ poisoned.” _

 

Her breathing began to slow as she looked at me, the tears continuing to flow. I felt my cheeks heat up, my eyes filling with tears as my mother reached up, her hand caressing my cheek for a moment. 

 

Her arm fell to the ground. Her breathing slowed to a halt. My mother… queen. Widow. 

 

Murdered.

 

“O…  _ villainy,”  _ I growled out, tears streaming down my cheeks, “Ho, let the door be locked!” I ordered furiously.

 

“Treachery! Seek it out!” I yelled as Osric exited the room. 

 

I heard Laertes’ voice cutting through the chaotic noise within the room, “It is here, Hamlet.”

 

I looked over at him, shuffling over as quickly as I could, leaving a trail of drops of blood as I went. He stared up at me, echoing what my mother had just done. He, too, grabbed my hand, his voice shaky as he spoke.

 

“Hamlet, thou art slain,” He said, his green eyes intensely staring into my own blue ones, “No medicine in the world can do thee good. In thee there is not half an hour of life. The treacherous instrument is in thy hand, unbated and envenomed.”

 

I stared back, feeling dread fill my soul, weighing me down like an anchor. We were silent, the chaos of the room filling our senses as Laertes coughed, struggling to inhale for a moment before he once more began to speak.

 

“The foul practice hath turned itself on me. Lo, here I lie, never to rise again. Thy mother’s poisoned.   
I can no more,” He said, tears flowing from his eyes and down his pale cheeks. He continued to stare, however, as he lay his hand on my cheek, “The king. The king’s to blame.”

 

The dread exited my body, leaving an emptiness. We held our stare as the emptiness was filled with rage.

 

“The point envenomed too,” I said quietly. Laertes nodded, his breathing growing more labored. He turned his head, his gaze landing on the poisoned sword. He stared for just a moment before turning back to me. 

 

He nodded.

 

“Then, venom, to thy work,” I growled out, standing on my weakening legs. I snatched the foil up, turning to face my uncle. 

 

Claudius stared blankly back at me. His hand slowly went to the amulet that hung over his chest, lifting it away. 

I stepped forward, letting out a yell as I plunged the poisoned blade into his heart. My uncle exclaimed, blood dripping from his lips.

 

“ _ Treason! Treason! _ ” I heard a cacophony of servants yelling.

 

“O, yet defend me, friends. I am but hurt,” Claudius mumbled quietly, the blood pouring from the wound. I knew that my uncle knew he was more than hurt.

 

Jesting as he dies. 

 

“Here, thou incestuous, murderous, damnèd Dane,” I spat, snatching the golden cup with the poisoned wine still in it. I grabbed his thinning grey hair in my fist, snatching his head back. His mouth opened, and I poured the fatal liquid into it.

 

“Drink off this potion. Is thy union here?” I said, the rage back in my body as I threw my uncle to the tiled floor. He landed with a dull thud, laying still on the ground, “Follow my  _ mother. _ ”

 

I slammed the goblet onto the table between the two thrones, my breathing heavy. I turned around, spotting Horatio standing next to my mother’s body. I noticed the room was now empty, save me, Horatio, and Laertes. The servants had all ran away - to where, I didn’t know. 

 

I went over to Laertes laying on the ground, the life quickly leaving his body. I knelt down, taking his shaking hand in my own.

 

“He is justly served,” He mumbled, coughing, “It is a poison tempered by himself.”

 

His coughing grew more violent, his skin becoming more pale as he squeezed my hand, “Exchange forgiveness with me, noble Hamlet. Mine and my father’s death come not upon thee, nor thine on me.”

 

I squeezed his hand back, “Heaven make thee free of it.”

 

Laertes nodded, a single tear running down his face. He stared up to the ceiling for a moment before closing his eyes, his breathing slowing and, too quickly, ceasing.

 

I exhaled, bringing his hand to my chest, squeezing it, “I’ll follow thee,” I mumbled, the weakness nearly overcoming by body. I shakily brought myself to my feet, staring at Horatio. I felt a wave of sadness slam into me, manifesting itself as a shiver as I stumbled to my uncle’s throne. I collapsed into it, breathing in heavily.

 

“I am dead, Horatio,” I said, watching my friend stand. He walked over to me as I turned my gaze to my mother’s body, “Wretched queen… adieu.”

 

“You that look pale and tremble at this chance, that are but mutes or audience to this act, had I but time, this fell sergeant, Death, is strict in his arrest, o, I could tell you!” I said, opening my eyes, remembering how the servants had escaped. I swallowed, shaking my head, “But let it be.”   
  


“Horatio…” I said, staring sadly up at my dearest companion, “I am dead…  _ Thou  _ livest.”

 

I reached for his hand, “Report me and my cause aright to the unsatisfied,” I requested, inhaling sharply. Horatio did not give me his hand, instead picking up the chalice.

 

“Never believe it,” I heard him begin, turning to face me, tears running down his face, “I am more an antique Roman than a Dane… Here’s yet some liquor left.”   
  


Horatio stared at me, lifting the cup to his lips. I felt a wave of panic rush through me, shaking my head.

 

“As thou'rt a man, give me the cup. Let go! By heaven, I’ll have ’t,” I yelled, launching myself from the throne, knocking the poisoned liquid from his hand. He caught me in his arms as the chalice clattered to the floor, leaving a puddle of blood-red wine on the floor. The pearl my uncle had placed in there rolled away, stopping when it hit his damned body. 

 

My strength left my body as I collapsed into Horatio’s arms, hot tears pouring down my face as I spoke, “O God, Horatio, what a wounded name, things standing thus unknown, shall live behind me!”

 

My legacy could not be murder.

 

We sank to the floor, Horatio keeping his strength as he held me to his chest. I took him the shoulders, looking into his tear-filled brown eyes. I inhaled shakily, preparing to speak.

 

“If… thou didst ever hold me in thy heart, absent thee from felicity a while, and in this  _ harsh  _ world draw thy breath in pain to tell my story,” I begged, the tears continuing to fall. I swallowed, quickly leaning forward and placing a quick kiss on his cheek. 

 

It surprised him, surely, but I was even more surprised. My dearest friend… 

 

I heard a cannon fire outside of Elsinore, my head snapping to look at the source, “What warlike noise is this?”

 

Osric reentered the room, panicked, “Young Fortinbras, with conquest come from Poland, to th' ambassadors of England gives this warlike volley!”

 

I opened my mouth to speak when a wave of sharp pain came from my stomach, “ _ Oh _ ,” I groaned, falling back into Horatio’s arms. My head fell in his lap, and I stared up into his eyes above me, my breathing becoming labored as Laertes’ had, and as my mother’s had before he. 

 

“I die, Horatio,” I said, shaking my head and looking towards Osric, running out of the door, “The potent poison quite o'ercrows my spirit. I... cannot live to hear the news from England, but I do prophesy the election lights on Fortinbras.”

 

I stared back up at Horatio again, trying to show my conviction in this decision, “He has my dying voice. So tell him, with th' occurrents, more and less, which have solicited.”

 

I closed my eyes, hot tears streaming down my face. I inhaled sharply, staring up at Horatio for the last time. Tears ran down his cheeks as well, his hand tenderly laid on my cheek. I inhaled, placing my hand over his.

 

“The rest is silence.”

**Author's Note:**

> we all knew it had to get a little gay 
> 
> anyway I hope you enjoyed this reimagining of the final scene of Hamlet! I've been getting really back into the story recently and have been really exploring Hamlet as a character, so this is kind of just a product of different ideas I had for relationships Hamlet has with others. 
> 
> I used all the original dialogue because I'm A Bad Bitch and I wanted to challenge myself to to find a reason for everything that gets said :') 
> 
> I also haven't written anything in ages because I have had NO Motivation but here we are now
> 
> As always, please feel free to leave any critiques or comments below! Or just talk to me about Hamlet please lmao


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